THE FINAL WARRIORS: SHADOWS OF THE SORCERESS
by DEVIN LEE WATSON
Summary: The World is on the brink of destruction, only a select few maybe able to save it. This novelization combines selective plots from Final Fantasy VII, VIII, IX, and X using favorite characters and or backgrounds to create a story of love and war.
1. THE JECHT MEMORIAL TOURNAMENT

I

JECHT MEMORIAL TOURNAMENT

**T**he young boy stood in the line just like the others. He was waiting patiently, even for his age, to get a chance to see the famous tournament. He didn't share the same ambitions like his peers, he wasn't good at playing the game, but he knew and respected it just the same. Blitzball was the epicenter of entertainment in Zanarkand. It attracted people from every corner of the world, drawing money that reached the sum of billions for just one game. It's a no-wonder that Zanarkand itself is the most advanced metropolis in the world. It defied the very nature of reality, built in the middle of the ocean, over the most unstable geological site around.

The young boy, unconcerned of any of this, remained calm as the line barely moved. His young eyes searched around. He didn't care that he was standing on a highway hovering by anti-gravitation generators which wove through a labyrinth of heaven seeking skyscrapers. Or did he care that the architecture of each building inhabited some integrated man-made water fall which crashed back into the ocean below. Neither did he know nor care that the city possessed moisture vacuums to control the weather, causing the city to have never-ending view of the stars above. He didn't care because he knew that he would not live anywhere else, and there wasn't a city out there that could compare. This was his home.

Standing for hours caused others to become restless, and the young boy only listened.

"I hope the Zanarkand Abes don't loose this tournament . . . " One elder man rumbled. His voice was exactly the way he looked. Definitely an outsider. "Back then, everyone put all their money on that game, and lost it just as quickly."

The young boy, unfamiliar with the story, continued to listen with keen interest.

"Ah, I know what your thinkin'" One responded above the boy. "And your wrong. It wasn't Jechts fault that they lost. It was a mistake made on the teams."

"Well, Jecht was the captain of the team, why didn't hey call a time out and negotiate a new call." A young teenager protested.

"That's because he was lazy. He was scared of the Duggles." One boasted. "He knew in his heart that he was going to loose."

"But he doesn't run the team, he was just the captain. And a captain for the Zanarkand Abes is just a motivator, a person to keep the energy flowing." Another began. "I think the coach should have done a better job planning the maneuvers."

The line moved slightly.

"Look. Jecht was a coward. I heard even he had a bad reputation with his wife and son." One spit.

"That was because he was involved into the game. It was his passion." Another said, easing into the conversation.

The boy grinned.

"I was in a coffee shop," One declared over everyone else. He chuckled for a moment, his smooth features showing his nativeness to the city. "I was running away from home when I heard the news. Now, I don't know about all of you, but my hero at the time was Jecht. He was the best thing that ever happened to Blitzball. He brought the Zanarkand Abes out of a one year slump. When I heard that he'd disappeared, vanished into thin air, I was devastated."

Everyone hushed their voices, listening, relating themselves to the story. "My dad must have been the biggest fan. I knew how sad he'd be. Heck, we all were the day."

Everyone nodded, muttering words like "Yeah" and "I hear ya."

"'Zanar' I said to myself. 'What are you thinking,'" The man continued. "I went running straight back home to my father. We sat up talking 'bout Jecht all night. My dad and I never talked so much."

Everyone suddenly was stricken with the feeling of guilt.

"So, if your going to talk about Jecht, I suggest you remember what he did for us, what he did for this city." Then he looked down at the young boy. "Because that way the children will respect our new star of Blitzball."

The boy smiled. He knew whom he was talking about.

The man looked at the others proudly. "In just one year, he's become the teams number one player! He's Jechts blood and the new hope of Blitzball. I wonder if we'll see his father's legendary shot. And even if we don't get into the stadium tonight, I believe this new star will go far . . . far beyond any of us."

The boy could hardly wait.

A cool breeze rushed past his face, feeling the wind loosen his features. He didn't care to open his eyes. He enjoyed the feeling, like a scheduled routine he committed before each game. It helped him concentrate. It pushed out all attaching emotions. He didn't need to do it for very long, just until he could clear his mind of question and doubt. When he opened his eyes, he saw the icy waters whipping and breaking against the hull of the water-shuttle. His blue eyes gradually focused on the driver who eased into a small harbor.

The wind died into a small flutter which tugged slightly at the seventeen year olds sandy blond hair. A jewel spectacle ahead of him shined with intensity like a temple of the high gods. It was the grand Zanarkand Stadium.

Tall, bulky and devised of layered stone, the stadium looked to be made from giants. It wasn't the tallest of structures in Zanarkand for it was dwarfed by the skyscrapers littered throughout. However, its broad shoulder like arena seemed miles long and was displayed by soft colors of purple and blue. Within the walls of the stadium was where the Blitzball Tournament took place. The destination of the water-shuttle.

This is Squall Leonhart.

A renown Blitzball Player. A respectable teenager. And an intense carefree young man. Squall Leonhart possessed skills which most his age couldn't comprehend. Maybe that's because he has lived a life slightly unbalanced then most.

He was born and raised in Zanarkand mostly by his mother Raine. He always loved the memory of his mother, the times he has spent with her, the warm feeling to wake up with her; a never ending sense of compassion. They would go on explorations of Zanarkand, to see new buildings, or just to escape the riggers of house chores. Squall, even at a young age, suspected that his mother wasn't from Zanarkand and that probably her and his father moved here just before he was born. Why? He never knew. And he didn't care.

Squalls never did stray into the thought of the unknown. Why should he? He was always focused on the _here _and _now. _There was no reason to wonder off effortlessly.

And maybe that's why Squall never really tried to question the relation of his father. He was never home much, always practicing or reviewing the last Blitzball game with his buddies. Squall would later find out that Jecht was never really much of a husband either. But still, Squall never questioned his father's actions. But he did seek a way to come closer to him.

Squall became interested into Blitzball. He would sneak into his fathers trophy room and use his father's ball to practice his famous moves. He never did them right. But it boosted his confidence and motivation to continue practicing. He figured if he could justly play Blitzball, that maybe his father would finally accept him.

One fortunate day, Squall was in his backyard practicing when Jecht came home. Confused to see his trophy room missing his favorite Blitzball, he went to Squall. Embarrassed and assuming punishment, Squall slumped shouldered went back into the house. But it was in that moment when Jecht realized something. He had inspired his son.

"Well, well trying to follow in my footsteps are you?" Squall remembered Jecht boasting with his usual deep arrogant voice. The young Squall turned around, surprised at Jechts reaction. "I usually charge for lessons, you know . . . "

Jecht, in heart, was surprised to inspire his only son in a sport he loved so much. But, the game had morphed his character so dramatically, it was hard for him to speak in a manner that couldn't be described as any less then cocky. "That shot is done like this!"

Jecht had leapt into the air, and spun hard. He ended with a hard kick and the Blitzball slammed into the imaginary goal on the ground. Squall had been so totally surprised, his frown ignited into a smile. In his heart he knew that this was going to be the start of a new relationship with his father. He had succeeded in acquiring his dads attention. Maybe in time, Squall would be able to play along side his father.

But the love of the game consumed Jechts heart.

"You can't do it kid." Jecht had responded with haughtiness. "But don't worry, my boy. You're not the only one. No one else can do it. I'm the best."

The dream to have a relationship with his father died as quickly as it began. Squall had made a promise from that moment forth that he would prove his father wrong. That he would take his skill to the next level. And even though Squall was young and naive, he still possessed a maturity beyond his peers. He blames his father for such a skill.

And ten years from the day of his father mysterious disappearance, here he was, in the midst of a tournament. Squall had achieved his dream. He was the best Blitzer the world has ever seen. He was his father's son. And now his goal was to break himself from Jecht's limited boundaries. For, Jechts passion was to win the game. Squall Leonhart's passion was:

Freedom of the game.

**T**he water-shuttle eased to the port and Squall, anxious to get to the stadium was already standing and reaching out to the dock. He lifted himself up and gave the pilot an approving look. He stepped forward, looking down the dock to see hundreds of fans waving props of all sorts, screaming and yelling which echoed with consistent bursts of his name. He smiled. If he loved anything else besides the freedom of the game, being the center of attention was another.

He stepped forward, anxiety running through his blood. He had played many Blitzball games, but still, every time he got nervous. He figured it had something to do with presenting himself to the way people liked. _But on second thought, _he figured quietly, _that would mean I would have to act like my father. _

He walked smoothly up to his increasing fans, all of which were held back by steel railing to provide room for him to walk. Even still, it wasn't enough space. He was met by a rushing of swirling hands, all seeking an autograph. Squall had made it a custom to find a people in the rage of passionate fans to give him his autograph too. That way, it made it seem more exciting and the same people would keep coming back. It was _stardom thinking_ as Squall put it.

Moving swiftly through the crowd, and smiling occasionally to give some the false impression of affection, Squall laid his eyes on a couple cute girls. He couldn't ignore his juvenile heart's ambition. Therefore, without much thought, he approached the two girls.

"How are you two girls doin' tonight?" Squall asked casually. The two girls, in retrospect to his stardom, giggled lightly and pressed forward against the railing, holding out a Blitzball.

"Can I have your autograph?"

Squall smiled. "Of course!" He took the ball smoothly, swirled it on his finger and signed it dramatically. With a roll down his arm, he returned the Blitzball.

"Good luck tonight!" She smiled impeccably.

"Nothing to worry about." He responded off handedly.

The other girl, much cuter to Squalls eyes, held out her Blitzball timidly. Squall took the ball, signed it and slowly returned it. Without regard to possibly starting something that might end up catastrophically, he cocked his head and said.

"If I score a goal . . . I'll do this!" He held up his arms vertically, with three fingers erect on each hand. "That will mean it was for you, okay?"

The two girls held their hands over the mouths giggling. Squall just prayed they didn't take it any further than it was meant. He had heard stories that stars will suddenly become stalked because of casual fan appreciation. But, these girls were cute . . . _heck, I wouldn't mind getting stalked by me. _He fantasied.

"What seat?" Squall queried.

The two girls looked at each other with disbelief. "East block, in the front row!" One said.

"Fifth from the right!" The other boasted excitedly.

"Got it."

He turned around, knowing he was already late, to be stopped by two kids standing in front of him. _Great . . . _He told himself. _I did start something unwanted._

"Can you sign this?" The small boy muttered.

Unbeknownst to Squall, this little boy had been standing in line for hours just for this moment. Just to get to see and stand before the new star of Blitzball. And he also understood and respected him not just because he was a good Blitzball Player, but because he had heard that story about Jecht. He had heard that Jecht was the best thing that happened to Zanarkand. And since the stories about Jecht ended terribly, meeting his son was just as good.

Squall bent down on his knees and took the Blitzball. "No problem." He signed the ball and handed it back to have another placed in his hands.

"Please!" Another young boy pleaded jumping up and down.

"Alrightly." Squall signed his scribble of a name while another child ran out and held up his Blitzball.

"Me too!"

"Take it easy." Squall tried to say pleasantly. But the truth was, he was getting tired of this. He needed to get to the game. He signed the ball.

"Well, gotta go! Cheer for me!" Squall announced before more came around the railing. The glimmer of the Blitzball Stadium was calling his heart. He looked up at it, the structure leaning over them like a great beast, and could almost feel the victory. See the millions of people within it standing and cheering for the Zanarkand Abes, the new champions of the Finals. He could almost smell the black powder falling from the skies after fireworks erupt the heavens in a flamboyant display while the whole city turned into a wild party. That was the fun of Blitzball. It was the ultimate reward that Squall loved.

"...two, three!" Were the words that drew Squall out of his daydream. He turned around to see the three boys. "Teach us how to blitz!" They cheered.

_Oh, great._ Now they wanted him to teach them how to play. _Maybe this is why my father charged for lessons. _

"Hey, I got a game to play!"

"Then teach us after," One boy pressured.

They didn't give up. "Maybe tonight . . . um . . . " He thought about the wild party he wouldn't miss floated in his mind. "...well . . . "

"You can't tonight . . . " Echoed a voice.

The smooth icy voice didn't come from a peer or even and elder for that matter, but another child standing isolated from the rest of the crowd.

The child was average height. Its face was hooded by a small blue cloak. He seemed calm, too calm for a child in this event, and emitted a translucent glow to him. Squall hesitantly turned back to the children.

"I mean . . . " He tried to say, but the words weren't there. His eyes shot back at the child. He was gone.

"I mean tomorrow." He finally said.

"Promise" The small boys eyes widened.

"Promise!" Squall said confidently.

Squall turned away and back to the spot where the hooded child once stood. Did he imagine him? Was the voice just part of his mind telling him that he didn't have time for such ridiculousness? Or maybe it was a Blitzball hater, a person who despises the game and will do anything to confuse the players so they'll loose. Squall didn't rule out any theory that ran through his mind. But, he needed to reroute his concentration, or else, if it was a Blitzball hater, he would succeed. This was the biggest event the world has ever seen. This was to the audience a Tournament to honor the great ex-star Jecht who has been missing for ten years to date, but to Squall, this was his one chance to prove to everyone he is not his father.

He's the new star of Blitzball.

But like a fly who keeps appearing in the house, the mystery of the hooded child surfaced. And then, a new theory emerged.

Maybe it was a precognitive sign. The only question therein lies:

Of what?

The soft ocean broke away from the hull that slid up to the dock smoothly. The engines quieted and strong-armed men reached down to help up the passenger. But apparently, he needed none. Instead, he stepped firmly up onto the stone dock without regard to either the pilot or assistants. This brought forth miffed expressions. Distracted by another incoming boat, the assistants turned away, letting the mysterious man go forth.

This man, unmoved by the people around him, followed the dock into Zanarkand. His half-concealed eyes glanced around at the crowds built around Movie Spheres seeking a glimpse of the Tournament. This man was here on a common purpose. But it wasn't in the terms of getting an autograph, or watching the game.

He was here to save the new star of Blitzball.

A quiet hum melody played in Squall's mind. It was the same hum he had sang before each game. The same hum his mother used to sing to him to sleep when his restlessness took hold of him. He used it now to hush his thoughts. This game was important to him. He needed to focus. He wasn't going to let some foolish thing like a disappearing child disrupt his long reign of victories. No, he was the captain of the team. The motivator. The goal seeker. The only one who was going to help win this game.

He figured that's where his father went wrong. Jecht had always believed that _he_ was the team, that _he _was the game. Squall understood otherwise. Granted, Squall was more skilled then the others on the team, however, if he was a lone player, he wouldn't stand a chance against an entire opposing team.

Therefore, in order for him to assist the Zanarkand Abes to win victory over the Duggles this year, he needed to quiet his mind. That's why he sat relaxed upon a double ply titanium ring which seemed to float in a vacuum of space. A puddle of water ran along its base which Squall had his feet resting in. He pushed out all noise . . . all thoughts . . . all emotions . . .

Only silenced remained. And then:

Squall opened his eyes.

A bright flash of white erupted in front of him. Squall stood, held up his hands and looked below him. He was suspended a hundred of feet within the air, erect upon a ring which slowly orbited a glowing ball of magnetic energy. Any foreign person would suspect that something terrible was about to take place.

But on the contrary, Squall only smiled. He knew what was going on. It was just the first stages of the arena formation.

A bright yellow glow blared upon Squall's face as bolts of electricity ignited from within the walls of a magnetic sphere, charging toward a now bright orange core. All at once, the core bloomed into a mammoth blue ball which absorbed all of the radiant energy surrounding until finally, clustering into a stable sphere of water. Squall stared forward. A wall of water held by magnetism was only inches from his face.

He held out his hand and touched the sphere. His entire hand pushed through the force field like jelly and retracted. The crowds burst into a cheer. This was what they had been waiting for. This was the grand Jecht Memorial Tournament.

Abruptly, the stadium ceiling parted. Huge platinum steel girders detached from each other, igniting small sparks of electricity as the starry night scape rushed in. The millions fans now were on their feet, waving their hands, boasting in an almost rhythmic melody.

Squall was already within the sphere, and small holographic Holoposts shimmered in the waters wake. Squall treaded to this-dead in the center of the sphere. His blue eyes searched around to his other players taking their Holoposts, nodding to one another in acknowledgment. There was some gravity within the sphere (created artificially) allowing Squall to place his weight against the small, triangle shaped Positioners.

He looked below his feet and he could see tournament staff placing the Blitzball upon the Gravitation Sphere. Squalls' eyes jumped forward. Across the sphere, a blurred reflection of the opponent's team could be seen swimming to their Holoposts. The game was about to begin.

Above everyone, a score board, projecting a display of each team's score previewed an empty screen. Before Squall knew it, the Duggles Team had positioned themselves and their team captain cockily grinned only feet away.

"So, willing to go down in history like your father . . . " He muttered to Squall. "You're braver than I thought."

Squall didn't say anything. He only stared back. _He's not going to shake my confidence._ He assured himself. Squall just sighed and allowed the cheering of the fans outside the water-sphere calm his spirit. _Let them be the fuel to my fire. _

The Duggles captains took his stance. Squall waited for the bell. The team's hearts filled with anxiety. This was the present moment. This was the time of victory or defeat. Of honor and shame. Questions of all sorts ran through each and every players mind except one. There was no need to question. Squall had everything planned. He knew he was going to win.

And then, like a red flag intensifying the bull, the Blitzball shot up the center of the sphere and everyone hushed in silence, watching both Squall and the Duggles Captain sprint to the ball.

This is Blitzball.

A game of two halves. Each halves a mere five minutes. Setting within a gigantic sphere of water. The object of the game is simple enough: get the Blitzball into the opposing goal. There are a couple terms each Blitzball player learns if or when he makes a team. Most of the time, a player will be Dribbling. This is swimming around with the ball in the players possession. While the Blitzball is within the grasp of a player, it's just a matter of getting the ball to the opponent side and shooting.

Of course, like any Blitzball player, it's almost impossible to have one person dribble the ball across the sphere without being tackled on the way. That's where Passing comes into effect. It takes a certain amount of strength to pass a ball through the friction of water, and has to be quickly thought out. The same goes for shooting. Any Player can admit that it's difficult to send a ball _hurtling_ toward a goal without the water slowing it down.

However, whether your Dribbling, Passing, or Shooting, the opposing teams are always in close proximity. And on every opportunity, they challenge. If this occurs, a Player has two options.

First, a player can attempt to maneuver around the enemy team player and carry on. However, in any attempt that would lead to a tackle front. If ones strong enough, they can survive it or else the player as openly given the ball to the opponent player.

Or secondly, a player can blitz through. If a player doesn't feel up to the challenge of fending off the enemy players, they can just pass/kick the Blitzball to another player to catch. But with any choice, they have to be quick. They have only ten minutes for a whole game. Not giving any player a lot of leeway for doubt.

This was the primary lesson of Squalls training. He knew of what his goal was. He knew he could retrieve the ball once it first blitzed up the center of the sphere.

He didn't give himself room for doubt.

**W**ith a boom, the crowd burst into a cheer. Squall captured the ball, swirled around and sent the Duggles captain tumbling head over feet. Dribbling swiftly, his blue eyes caught the Duggles players moving in for a challenge like angry hornets. Squall, quickly stopped, searched and found Nimrook half way across the sphere.

_Oh great, _Nimrook hesitated. Squall arced his arm back and swirled the ball toward his team member. Nimrook studied the ball with intensity. It swerved slightly to his left and with a tremendous leap, he caught it just in time to dribble further into the Duggles territory.

Squall kept his distance from the goal. He needed to keep Nimrook from getting tackled on the way. He knew of his strength and there wasn't much.

Taking a breath of the breathable water, Squall charged forward, following in Nimrooks wake. But to his horror, two Duggles team players were already beginning to challenge him. _Two!_ Squall burst with frustrated. Squall waved at Linna for back up who stood as offense.

She swam up into Duggles territory.

Nimrook couldn't find anybody open . . . Squall was out of range . . . Vilucha was too far for his pass . . . and Linna hadn't got close enough–

BAM

Nimrook slowly came back to consciousness realizing he no longer had the ball. His eyes finally focused on a Duggles team member making a break for the Abes' territory. Squall switched gears, seeing the lone wolf player take his chances against the Zanarkand Abes defense that he had personally trained.

Svanda, who was the first to encounter the Duggles player, misjudged her treading and just as she challenged him, he unbelievably swirled passed her, leaving her dazed and confused. Surprised, Durren right behind her came in full throttle.

The Duggles player smiled. With a powerful elbow, he plowed through Durren, gripping the ball with incredible strength.

Squall rushed down from overhead.

The Duggles player approached the third Goal Defense named Shaama with a cocky grin strapped on his face. For the first time in her life, she actually felt afraid. This player had bulldozed through three Abes players. What possibly could she do to stop him.

And like a raging horse, the player charged forward.

Before the over dominating Duggles player blitz through Shaama, Squall fell down from above with outstanding force, causing the unfortunate player to loose grip of the ball and fly out of the water-sphere into the supporting audience.

Squall crossed his arms, watching through the reflective force field the fans burst in excitement. Squall treaded away and back into the game.

He stood at a high-rise girder. No, he had no fear of heights. Why would he? He couldn't even explain how he got here. The explanation to anyone . . . would be impossible. But he was running out of time. Instead of walking, attempting to push through the crowds, this man chose a better path. In his gut he knew that the first wave wouldn't kill him, but maybe if he could get to him before the raid, then he could get him to safety. He didn't know. All his focus was bent on waiting for the signal.

He had traveled many miles to get here . . . to Zanarkand, the city that never sleeps. He couldn't help but to marvel at its beauty every time his eyes wondered hazelly. But this time, he wasn't here for his inspirational lectures, nor sight seeing. He was here to for fill the promise to save Squall. He was the only hope. Only he had the power to end what troubles lied beyond. And yet, the man waited.

The ground girder built firmly into the skyscraper began to shutter. The man, tall, powerfully built with his draping red robes stood erect. He reached to his side, gave the approaching fate of doom a greeting toast before turning and walking away. There was no need to wait anymore.

Sin had come.

The score: O-O.

Despite the Duggles irrational attempt to make a score with a lone player, they had a strong defense. Squall came to his Holopost. They had two minutes left in the first halve. He needed to get that first point. If not, Squall knew it could leave him and his team in a venerable spot.

The Blitzball lifted into the center of the sphere and the Duggles Captain snatched it. Squall didn't have time to question. He swam hard in the captain's wake. He waved his arm to Hillcar who was already in hot pursuit.

The Duggles Captain watched his players move in for a pass, but Squall already seen his objective. Knowing he wouldn't make it in time, he signaled Keepa.

Keepa didn't have to second guess Squall. With incredibly speed he moved through the water. Duggles moved in for the defense, creating a perimeter around the captain. They were moving in for the big score.

One minute left in the first half.

Squall panicked.

He had set this moment to prove to everyone that he was not his father. But if he sat there and watched the Duggles make a score over the Abes, something that hasn't been done since Jecht played, he couldn't even imagine the repercussions.

Like a bolt of lightening, Squall rushed forward. Gritting his teeth, he blitzed through two Duggles defending. His rage and heart was on that ball, the Duggles Captain was another mere obstacle to acquiring it.

But Squalls bones began to ache, his tread slowed and his momentum siezed. He had run himself dry. _Why . . . why . . . why?_

Squall repeated in his head. It was too late now. The results of the first half depended on the Duggles first score.

The Duggles Captain couldn't help but to feel good about himself. He had outmaneuvered the Abes team . . . even their most prized Player: Squall Leonhart. He approached his final obstacle. He had to score the shot against the Abes finest goalie.

The captain halted, bringing the Blitzball up to commit a backward flip. But, his foot never met the ball. All he could see was the endlessness of the water-sphere spinning. When he gained composure, he could see the confident Keepa, the player who didn't give up on Squall's order, embraced the ball.

Squall couldn't believe it.

But it didn't last.

Keepa was tackled violently by three powerful Duggles in the middle of the sphere, sending the ball flying out of grip.

Squall burst into motion; the seconds ticking down.

His eyes glared at the ball which shot out the top of the sphere.

The crowds screamed, the announcer went silent as Squall slid out of the top of the water-sphere.

He arced his back, his feet straight. The ball was leveled with his face. His eyes focused on his objective.

Horror struck his heart.

Spreading the width of the entire city was a mammoth wall of water; taller than any building as far as Squall's eyes could see. And in the moment where gravity finally took hold of him, the wall of the tsunami shimmered.

From within, huge blasts of fire reigned upon the city.

All too quickly, Squall found himself bracing a girder from the stadium ceiling as eruptions of fire, metal, and flesh splattered. His eyes bulged as below him, the tsunami consumed all, sending fragments of debris shooting pass him.

The once great statues obliterated into dust. The heaven touching skyscrapers fell to the ocean. The hovering highways were grounded. The once sleepless city became silent. And all the while, Squall hung helplessly on the girder, his fingers slipping on its smooth double ply titanium coating.

And then, a brutal, violent rumble shuttered throughout the city; Squall loosing his grip and falling to a consuming doom below.

Slowly, like the draining of oil from a old motor, the sounds of muffled cries and screams of despair flooded Squalls ringing ears.

Sharp pain in his ribs, the taste the blood streaming from his lip, shivering from the icy cold ocean water soaking him. No, he wasn't in the water. He was on some kind of stone. He slowly opened his eyes to see himself laying on the once grand walkway that lead into the stadium. All around, survivors, some scared, others dragging dead love ones, ran for some sort of safety. Squall slowly stood up onto his knees, his sore eyes looking around. The city was on fire.

Zanarkand was dying.

What was he going to do? What was going to happen next?

Squall looked down at his legs, he could still move them. His arms and neck were still functional. How he survived the fall he didn't know. But he wasn't about to sit around and create theories. Instead, he stood up fully, rubbing the back of his aching neck. He stumbled down the broken steps, reaching out his hands to support himself on the head of a huge statue that once stood erect in front of the Stadium.

_How did it come to this? Why now? Why ever? _Squall had never ventured into the realm of the unknown before. And here, in this moment, he was. It just didn't make any sense. He was helpless. His eyes filled with grief and sorrow. To his right, a man was severed in half by a fallen piece of debris, his skin was now pale and full of death. To his left, children sat curled up beside stones consumed in fear, their deceased parents laying at their feet.

Squall had never been a religious person, but what did the people of Zanarkand do to deserve such despair.Then the question hit him like a rogue blitzball.

_Where did the fire come from? _Squall looked around. He remembered just before the tsunami hit, giant balls of fire plowed into the city. And it seemed it had come from within the tidal wave itself.

_Was Zanarkand attacked?_

Squall moved forward. He stumbled slightly and stood stunned. Just when things couldn't get any stranger. There he was. The man of mystery himself. He was clad in red robes, wearing a pair of thin sunglasses, his arm cradled (as if broken) under his left sleeve, and his hair was cut short save a small braid which curled below his right ear. This man is one Squall hadn't seen since that day when Jecht disappeared.

Till now, he had been a mere legend.

This is Aiden Deneth.

Where he comes from, his history and who exactly he is, remains a mystery to all. How and why are answered by his past: a mystery. All that is known is that the mercenary has no friends, no home, no family, and certainly no heart for being a savior.

But Aiden's mission was clear. To find and rescue Squall Leonhart.

"Aiden!" Unexpectantly burst from Squalls mouth."What are you doing here?"

Aiden stepped forward and stopped and very casually, he responded: "I was waiting for you."

_What!_

"What are you talking about!" Squall said out of breath, running his hands through his soaked hair.

Aiden stepped forward, mixing with the forming crowd of survivors. Squall looked around shook his head. Of all people to help him, Aiden was here. The man who supported his father, who his father was friends with. The man who disappeared the same day his old man did. And here he was, acting as if nothing had happened.

As if it had already happened...

Squall sprinted down the rubble of the highway, slowly sinking into the ocean. His head jolted left to right. _Where is Aiden?_ He was gone. Vanished just like his dad. Maybe he imagined him.

Frustration built tensely. He didn't know what to do. He looked around again. People pushed past him frightened, confused, injured and in pain. They hoped faithfully that some miracle would wake them from this bad dream.

It stopped silent!

Squall looked around. His eyes bulged. Everyone had stopped, as if time had suddenly seized. He looked from shoulder to shoulder. _How...what's..._

"It begins," Echoed a voice.

Squall turned around. It was the small hooded child. He glowed more intensely this time, with small translucent balls of energy floating around him. He stood very still. Squall stepped forward to grab the child, but abruptly, he found himself on the freeway. A survivor had plowed through him. Time had regained. He stood, people were now running again, the smoke and fires blazed. He looked behind himself and yet again, the hooded child was gone.

_What? What hell..._

He could now see Aiden ahead. But, where was he going? It definitely wasn't the way to get out of the city.

Aiden stood motionless. Perhaps waiting for something.

Squall ran up to him, bending down and panting. "Hey, not this way. Its not..."

"Look!" Aiden demanded. His head was looking skyward. Something very large reflected in his tinted sunglasses.

Squall slowly rose his eyes into the sky.

It was like nothing Squall had ever seen. It was enormous, a hundred times larger than any whale. It had a long, bulky form to it. Scales of grayish tone. It possessed a huge great jaw, with small, seemingly harmless teeth. It possessed many eyes like those upon a spider. It had fins much like a dolphin and possessed two back legs with long sharp nails the size of a skyscraper.

Squall backed up, trying to assume the scale of the creature.

"We called it Sin." Aiden spoke smoothly.

Squall eyed Aiden. "Sin?"

He knew what it was called? The mystery always deepened around this man.

Sin, defying the nature of gravity, gave out a enormous growl, rumbling the very earth. His skin curled as if threatened and the scales began to flutter. Aiden stepped forward. He reached to his back and gripped the handle to a blade strapped within a holster. He slowly lifted it away, the cool night reflecting from its silver. It was long, thicker at its base and thinner at its tip.

As if a great stream of air burst under Sin's belly, the scales ripped from its skin and fell with haste. The shell pointed scales arced as they fell, bringing them to a maximum descend rate.

Like bullets, thousands punctured into the buildings, roadways and freeways. Squall looked at the army of scales covering the ruins of the city and then gazed at Aiden for answers.

Squall's inner conscious told him that this wasn't a good thing.

Each scale, the size of a man, shimmered with a blue energy. They all split in half and a head and body emerged. Each creature possessed two glowing red eyes as there body shifted from gray to blue. Squall looked at Aiden who just stood there.

Wasn't he going to do anything? Why was he just standing there? _If he's not going to do anything, then I will!_

Squall went into movement, jumping toward the unknown beasts with dripping mandibles with only his hands to defend himself. Taking advantage of this new prey, they overcame him, their jaws extending out with a terrifying sharpness, homing in for a scrumptious bite. Squall fell hard on his back.

Aiden stepped up next to him. He lifted another sword, very different from his own, and lowered it to Squall.

"Take it," Aiden sighed.

It had a very unique design, its front split inward with a purple haze to it. Squall gripped it while attempting to stand, misjudging the blades weight. The sword pulled him to the stone freeway.

"A gift from Jecht."

Squall could hardly believe his ears. "My old man?"

Ignoring Squall's skepticism or disbelief, he moved into attack position. "I hope you know how to use it."

Squall used all of his strength to just bring the sword to his waist level. _What..._Squall thought to himself, _You charge for lessons too._

Aiden moved forward, blade in hand and quickly severed the creatures in half. Squall followed quickly behind, sloppily chopping from side to side, trying more to scare then to actually harm them. Aiden paid no attention, he kept his focus on the enemies at hand, swiftly shifting hands with his blade, slicing with accuracy and adrenaline.

"The ones behind us don't matter. We cut through!"

Squall kept behind Aiden as he did most of the work. Each Sinspawn, as they were called, fell to the ground after a wild furry of being decapitating or severed. Squall didn't know how to use a sword, he had never touched one in his life. And he never knew his father did either. There was something very strange going on. He knew that today was really about his father, but he could have never guessed so deep. His father, a sword wielder..._yeah right._

The moans of despair from the unholy creatures echoed behind as Aiden and Squall pressed forward.

Where was he going?

Did he know where he was going?

The both of them followed the freeway as it sloped up. And right beside them was another tower which stood alone amongst the ruins of Zanarkand.

Squall called it irony as he stared at it while sprinting. It just happened to be the only building that was standing out of the devastation that still flickered his dads hologram. It showed a man, much older than Squall, who had long untended brown hair, a scar that ran down the side of his cheek and his unforgettable cocky smile.

"What are you laughing at old man..." Squall muttered out load, still pondering how his father was wrapped up in this.

"Aiden!" Squall stopped, taking a breath. "Lets get out of here!"

Aiden stopped. He stared forward. "No."

_What...?_ He had no intention of leaving. _Why the hell am I following him then!_

"We're expected." Aiden started in a sprint again.

Squall, filled with so many questions and grief, shook his head and followed the mystery. However, unbeknownst to Squall, the both of them were heading straight for the creator of the utter devastation of Zanarkand:

Sin.

Out of nowhere, Sinspawn's fell from the sky and littered the entire freeway, stopping Squall and Aiden dead in their tracks. The trio was completely surrounded. Squall didn't know how Aiden was going to get them out of this one. Aiden, for the first time, hesitated.

Squall slashed forward at the shell-emerging creatures. But one just replaced it. And this time, their wings began to flicker. This was obviously not a good thing.

"Hmph. This could be bad." Those very words scared Squall to the bone.

The legend, the man with all the answers, the warrior who can't be beaten, a soldier of high regard, didn't know what to do. This was it. He had lead him to his death.

Aiden had a plan though. He looked to his right and hanging from the side of the freeway was their chance of safety.

It was a fuel tank.

His head jerked to Squall. "That! Knock it down!"

Squall looked at the fuel tank: it was an electromagnetic charger igniting a bolt of electricity between two batteries. It didn't look to Squall like a savior from this predicament.

"What?" Squall questioned as the creatures enclosed restlessly.

"Trust me. You'll see."

Squall gave him the benefit of the doubt and jumped forward, slicing between the two batteries, causing the tanker to spark and fall from the freeway.

BOOM!

The fuel tank exploded with a force of a small nuclear bomb. It sent a fireball rushing up underneath the freeway, destroying supports to the adjacent skyscraper. Aiden pushed Squall back falling face first onto the pavement as the building tipped and crashed tremendously into the freeway.

Aiden pulled Squall up to see the Sinspawn's obliterated and a one-chance-path to the other side of the freeway. Aiden looked at Squall.

"Go."

_He must be crazy!_ But, this was no time to question. Aiden knew what he was doing. And in order to survive this, he needn't to be distrust of someone trying to help. This was his only chance.

Squall leaped off the freeway and stumbled onto the burning and falling building. He ran with all the speed he could conjure up, sweat beading from his forehead. Frequent burst of flame and debris erupted all around, sending fragments of metal, glass, and stone into the air. He didn't care that his legs were now bleeding and marred with fragment particles. This was a moment of life and death. He had seen his friends and his home become a field of destruction. He wasn't going to be part of it. And his only chance to survive was to reach that freeway now looming before him...

But something was happening. The freeway began to float toward the underbelly of Sin, as if in some remote possibility, the creature was preventing him from getting to safety.

_Not without a fight!_

Squall leaped just as a explosion underneath him sent him hurtling skyward. His outstretched hands tried desperately grabbed hold of one of the steel supports of the damaged freeway. He looked up. Debris fell on his face and he could see a whale-ish, thick blubbery skin that was Sin. And like an enormous mouth, a gaping threshold opened from the creatures stomach which transformed into an immense portal, blazing with morphing colors of red and yellow. It was as bright as the sun.

_What was happening!_

Everything around him, including the freeway he now dangled from was being sucked toward the vacuum of the black hole. Where was Aiden? He couldn't be alone...

Not now.

Squall's eyes filled with tears.

But Aiden was there. He stepped forward, standing on the freeway, and looked down at Squall gripped above a now endless chasm.

"Aiden! Help Aiden!"

Aiden turned his head toward the looming portal.

"Are you sure?" He spoke to it, as if its ear shattering noise that it emitted was some coded language.

Squall didn't care what the hell Aiden was doing. He just wanted up. "Aiden! Aiden!"

Aiden turned back to Squall. Aiden looked at him intensely, straight in the eyes, like a predator before an attack.

"This is it!" Aiden yelled, unbelievably reaching down and lifting Squall completely up with one arm.

Squall helplessly looked at Aiden confused.

"This is your story."

"What...what are you talking about? Aiden!" he tried to yell over the static.

He looked up. Sin was completely over them.

"It all begins here."

Horridly, Squall watched Aiden's body stretch wildly, disappearing into the fiery void. Squall, locked into the portals invisible hand, emerged into its blinding rays. His body shook, his muscles tightened, and a slow burning overcame his body. There was a blinding flash of white.

And then, darkness.


	2. THE ANCIENT RUINS

II

THE ANCIENT RUINS

The dank, murky cold chilled his face. Slowly, he could feel a light breeze ruffle his soaked clothes. His feet seemed weightless, swaying back and forth. With a slow deluding wake from comatose, Squall realized that he was half submerged in water, and his feet were swishing with its undercurrent. He lifted his head; he lied upon a small obsidian rock, jagged and outward, where an bird was perched. Squall watched the dark colored bird pluck its feathers, slowly cleansing them with its beak and tongue. Turning away, Squall analyzed his new environment. Tall, once great structures littered the surface in ruins. A hue of mist layered over the shallow waters; clear enough too just barely see through.

He had hoped that this had been some horrible dream. That the Duggles captain just hit him too hard; that Zanarkand was fine-it was safe. That there wasn't anything called Sin. But as Squalls troubled eyes surveyed this new world he waded in, the truth slowly ate away from his heart.

Squall punched the hard rock. "No!"

His voice echoed endlessly. The ruins carried no response to his cries. Only silence. Squalls' eyes lifted to the bird. It just stood there, its beady eyes looking into the distance. It had no care in the world, a troubleless soul on a constant search for food to stay alive. It merely whimpered as the fog thickened.

"Hello! Anybody out there?" He burst. His echo became the very answer. "Aiden!" Nothing.

_Where did Sin take me..._

There was no one to answer questions now. He was alone. The feeling plummeted deep into his soul. There was nothing he could do. There was no where to go. Now his life was much like the birds, to consistently look for way to stay alive.

A burst of flapping roared by Squalls ear as the bird ascended into the sky. It arced slowly like a vulture and swooped through some thick fog. Squall squinted and could see a shadow behind a cloudy mist of fog. It was a building.

Squall pulled himself completely into the cold water, his weak legs slowly adapting and treading softly. He swam forward, his blue eyes fixated on his destination. And slowly, like panning for gold, emerged from the mist great stone pillars that rose high into the sky, obscuring the very clouds hovering above. Pushing himself with his hands, Squall could see the aged stone, riveted and corroded from thousands of years of abuse.

Suddenly, the sound of falling water struck his ears. To his right, a once colossal building lied in fragments, scattered over the submerged island. Squall could only guessed that this place used to be a great city many years ago that had been struck by some natural disaster. But then, the image of Sin hovering over Zanarkand stabbed his heart.

_Maybe it was Sin?_

Squall continued treading forward until the mist dissipated and the building could be seen in full. However, much like the ruins around its perimeter, it too lied in debris. Layered with stone and drenched in the icy water, the only thing that remained in form was its enormous dome ceiling. Squall swam to the base of a small staircase leading to a stone walkway. Squall climbed up, the cool breeze freezing the very blood in his body. He slowly went up the stairs and came to the stone bridge. It crossed over a section of water deeper than the one he emerged from. It was a narrow path, only wide enough for a persons feet to carefully walk across. Large cracks and fissures covered the surface of the bridge, casting a dismayed look upon Squall.

Squall stepped lightly crossing, huddling his arms close together, shivering from the cold breeze sweeping down through an open path of ruins. He looked over his shoulder several times, hoping that he might see some kind of settlement or vessel. Only darkness.

He looked down into the water. A small layer of mist dissolved, revealing a very clear image of the structures beneath the surface of the water. A village, devised of boxed-stone houses, layered in rows and columns, covered the sea floor. Seaweed and algae plagued the cobblestone, creating a vast network of a dangling sea-forests clinging to the dead city. It was lifeless.

WHISH!

A shadow zipped pass, sending pockets of air racing to the surface. Squalls eyes searched frantically around to see what it was. It was gone. Squall indecisively moved forward, caution pounding against his heart. He reached the arch in the stone walkway; the furthest area above the water.

Being a blitzball player, Squall had incredible instincts. When something didn't seem right, he new exactly what to do. But, playing Blitzball, every adversary is in front of the player. Everything is laid out plain and simple. A player knows what to expect. Considering this unknown place, tracking and finding out about what's safe and what's dangerous was Squalls priority. And since his focus was on the shadow itself, maybe that's the reason when he stepped forward again, he didn't hear a crack break loose in the walkway.

He stepped forward again. Another crack. He stopped. A sound much like ice failing under pressure suddenly pounded into his ears. He looked down. A fissure ran jaggedly through the walkway, right between his feet. He burst into movement.

Too late.

The walkway broke loose beneath his feet. Gravity pulled him straight down into the murky water below. He descended deep beneath the surface, huge chunks of stone slowly falling to the seabed. Squall hurriedly swam to the surface and gasped for breath.

He looked right and left. His body ached with fright. Adrenaline ran through his veins. Whatever he saw zip pass him was somewhere in the vicinity. Above the water, he could see everything beneath the surface. But now at the surface level, the reflection of the ruins upon the water blurred his view, making him even more nervous. His body began to tremble in anticipation; he knew something was going to happen but it was the mere fact of when and what.

Something tugged at his feet. He jolted around. Nothing.

_What is it dammit! _Squall dipped underwater. He opened his eyes, feeling the sting of salt water eat at his pupils. He turned in a complete circle to find only darkness. Maybe it was his imagination. Maybe he was creating fear in his head. He popped up taking a breath and chuckled. _Im being paranoid . . . _he muttered to himself. He sighed, relieving the stress he just put his conscious through. There was nothing to fear out here.

Abruptly, a sharp pain exploded from his leg and he was pulled underwater. Squall desperately looked down his body to see his foot was lodged within the mandibles of some creature. Blood smeared into the water, flesh slowly ripping as Squall struggled to break free. He screamed gripping his leg, releasing his last bit of air.

The creature released his grip, leaving Squall deep under the surface and bleeding profusely. The creature glided toward some ruins and spun around again, looking dead at Squall.

Squall gripped his ankle looking up at the fiend. It was long, shaped much like a shark, with two wing like dorsal fins and a long, saw-like snout. Its black eyes gazed at its new meal with expectancy. Squall looked around hurriedly. And in a fleeting moment, something caught his eye. It was his sword; the one Aiden gave to him in Zanarkand just before being sucked into Sin. Squall bolted for it, the Sahagin (the creature) in close proximity. He swooped down, using his skills in Blitzball to slid through the water and down close to the rock ledge where his sword rested. He reached out his hand and gripped the handle firmly. He turned around and his eyes glared upon the Sahagin creature. A stream of confidence powered his body.

He stood his ground.

The Sahagin, without much thought to any danger, glided hastily, opening its huge razor mandibles for a victorious bite. Without thinking, Squall parried and slashed hard, severing the Sahagins head clear from its torso. Blood slithered throughout the water, slowly deluding as it journeyed.

Squall swam to the surface, still bleeding from his ankle.

It was a sleeping giant. It lied within the consuming shadows of its buried shelter. It never woke from its internal comatose, surviving only from algae or small fish who dared to enter its cavern. How long or why the creature chose this as it home is unknown for the mind of it couldn't comprehend such things. But, over the years it has increased in size, to the point where the original threshold leading into the cave was smaller than his body. It didn't care. He knew his food would come to him; they didn't know better. But something caught its scent, a scent of blood. He inhaled through his nostrils a long deep sigh, feeling the warmth of the blood sooth his overture of sour alae. Its backbone shivered. It had a sweat taste, much like a dolphin-but not as sour. It was a scent more like seals-they had sweat blood like this. But the creature continued taste the water and concluded it was not a seal. No-the blood was more intelligent than a seal. It was more . . . more like a..

...human!

For the first time since its dormancy, the Geosgnaeno woke up.

Squall took a deep breath. He waded in the water looking around. _How do I get out this place? _Squall searched around. Ruins and fog completely surrounded him. Squall sighed. He started to a small pillar half concealed under the water. But something caused him to stop. He looked down at the water close to his face. Ripples in the current suddenly changed. He jerked his head to the nearest set of ruins.

Rocks and chunks of debris crashed into the water.

_An earthquake?_

Everything rattled with tremendous momentum, causing the already crumbled blocks of stone to slide into the ocean. Waves from aftershock struck Squall in the face, shooting him underwater for safety. He treaded several feet under looking out for any danger. But unbeknownst, the danger wasn't in front him.

Something exploded. He turned around and looked at the seabed. A huge cloud of sand engulfed an entire block of the sunken town, large roofs of homes scattered over the watery terrain. Squall squinted to focus.

It broke through the small cavern threshold, a mammoth dorsal crushing the roof of the entrance, causing a massive landslide, blocking any attempt for the Geosgnaeno to return to its shelter. It emerged from the sand cloud, coming into full detail in front of Squall.

Larger than any thing Squall had ever seen (save Sin), it had a huge hunched back. It carried two colossal arms with sharp black claws for digging. Its stomach was exposed through an un-skinned rib-cage which provided for easy digestion for its main prey. Its leathery skin on its back was green and filled with pores of poison for it's rare but deadly predator. It had a large, multi-jointed jaw good for any size of food with seven large red scorching eyes for heat-vision. And its keen, multi-angled pupil focused and brought Squalls image racing to its retina.

Squall gasped.

_That's a big fish!_

Wasting no time, Squall raced forward. The Geosgnaeno charged after him with incredible speed, coming up to his wounded leg. Squalls heart raced swerving toward a stone foundation; the creature following. With incredible swiftness, Squall arched to his right at the foundation wall, sending the Geosgnaeno slamming head first into the stone. Squall burst to the surface for air.

His desperate eyes searched around.

In the foundation was an opening. He dipped back underwater just as the Geosgnaeno used his massive hands to pull free from the crippled stone. He turned his gigantic body and set eyes onto Squall now moving hastily toward another foundation. Letting out a blood curdling roar, the creature glided after him.

Squall used both his hands and feet to drive himself forward. He looked over his shoulder to see the bulkiness of Geosgnaeno behind him, ready for any moment to take a chunk from his body.

The threshold of the opening was right in front of him. He swam to the surface, skimming the top of the water. Like a shark, the creature followed, his intense red eyes glaring on his pray, instinct telling him to pursue. But Squall was getting away-this pathetic human was outsmarting him. The Geosgnaeno wasn't going to give up.

Suddenly, the creatures' mouth folded open, revealing a long and hollow throat. Abruptly, Squall no longer swam forward despite efforts. He looked over his shoulder to see the Geosgnaeno sucking in the ocean water, bringing him closer and closer to his mandibles. Squall gritted his teeth and clung onto the edges of the entrance. His legs were now within his jaw. At any moment, Squall knew he was going to loose this battle.

But the Geosgnaeno coughed, sending a huge wave of ocean water erupting from his throat. Squall went tumbling head of feet through the foundation entrance and into the dark.

The entrance was caved in. There was no way out and it was freezing. Squall sat on some stone steps, holding his arms close together for warmth. His lips were already blue and he could barely feel his toes. He thought his was going to die. Maybe this was part of the punishment . . . maybe . . . in some twisted way, all this had to do with Sin. Maybe this was Sins way of slowly killing someone. Breaking them down to nothing; until all hope and resolve has left their body.

Squall sat there on the stone steps, within the chamber of some building, and closed his eyes. Tears streamed down his face. Everything he ever knew, everyone he ever loved, had been killed or taken. It started with his father, then his mother, then Zanarkand, and now, his very mentality. He couldn't stand it. There was only one way to end it. That was to just sit there until his body shut down from the cold and his spirit fled into the dark.

He curled up on a ball and lied on the stone, the cold water brushing against his face. This was going to be the end. He wasn't strong enough to carry on. He closed his eyes again, slowly shutting out all thought, emotions, and pain. If he was going to die, he would want to do it peacefully. And before he knew it, he was humming the song he used to do before each match. The same one he hummed at the Blitzball match before Sin attacked.

Squall opened his eyes. He could feel a breeze touch the back of his neck. He looked over his shoulder, through the fallen debris and rubble to see a stone door partially ajar. He turned back to the water. He figured there was no difference through that passageway then there was here. _No, Im going to die here. _

Squall turned back and looked at the opened door. Squall stood and sighed. Staring harder at the door.

Squall denied his gut feeling and crawled through the debris.

Enormous broken pillars suddenly began to roll from a passageway and Squall crawled up and out. His eyes slowly surveyed his new surroundings. Three stories of stone, built in a cylinder form, rose up with half standing statues lying in front supporting columns, which beamed to the domed ceiling. Although the chamber was much larger, a gaping hole lied in the ceiling, allowing the cold frost to blaze into and chill Squall.

He dropped to his knees. The feeling in his arms started to give way. He bent down and stared at the marble floor still partially submerged in water. Squall took a breath and his eyes slowly rose.

Half a meter away was a raised pile of rocks with a wood pile arranged to make a fire. Squall crawled over, his hand slipping on the water. A glimmer of hope resided in his blue eyes as he stared down at the remains of the old camp fire. He looked around for something to start it, but there was nothing.

_There has to be something . . . _

Squall stood up, looking around. Across the chamber, there was some loose rocks laying on the ground. Squall went to them and brought them to the campfire. He took his sword and cut some of his hair and threw it into the pile of weathered wood. He took the two rocks and started clashing them together, hoping to spark a fire.

Nothing.

The rocks weren't flint.

Squall continued to bang the rocks together, anger fleeting across his face. He wanted a fire, he had to start a fire or else he was going to die. And five minutes ago, death sounded really good to him, but there was no way that this campfire was here for a tease. Therefore, Squall clashed, chipped, and collided the two stones until his face turned beat red.

"You stupid...!" Squall stood and threw the rocks. He walked away from the campfire pacing. He couldn't believe this. How could things be so complicated? Why can't things just be easy for once?

Squall turned back, grabbed the rocks, and clashed them together."Why wont you just start!"

The rocks suddenly sparked and the wood burst into flames.

Squalls face morphed relieved, tears piling under his eyes. He bent down and lied on the marble floor, the warmth of the fire calming his distressed spirit.

He hesitantly closed his eyes, exhaustion overthrowing his senses. He figured that maybe by sleeping, he might be more energetic to look for some kind of settlement-for he cant be the only person left. No-Aiden had been sucked into the portal as well.

_Where is he?_ Squall pondered.

Everything was just too strange. Zanarkand was destroyed, Aiden was there somehow to save him and...and...

The child.

A chill ran down Squalls back at the mere memory of the child. Somehow the girl knew; somehow she was able to stop time during the attack. And the more he dwelled on her, the more she seemed familiar; as if he had seen her before...

It was the big finals before the Jecht Memorial Tournament. Squall sat in the locker room seething with frustration, glaring intensely at the ground. He couldn't believe it. How could it happen again. He had tried so hard not to be his father that even anybody comparing him to such a man was repulsive. And even in the inevitable, Squall always lost his composure when such things would happen during a game. But it would usually lead to a increase of performance and a total victory for the Abes team. However, this time, the team plummeted into defeat. _Why...why...Why can't I just forget my old man! _Squall demanded.

He cringed thinking of the solidly cocky Duggles captain. Squall needed to pull things together between him and his father. He was dead, he was gone and he was still allowing him to effect him in his day to day life. _No More!_

Squall slammed his fist onto the metal bench.

"Squall," A familiar voice boomed.

He turned around. Standing in the threshold of the locker room was the red robed Aiden. Squall rolled his eyes, turning back to the floor.

"What do you want?" He demanded softly.

Aiden chuckled stepping forward. "It was a bad call."

Squall couldn't believe this. Aiden had come to give him a lecture about his Blitzball strategy.

"Your team lost because of you." Aiden continued.

Squall whipped his head around annoyed. "You came here just to say that!" He shook his head walking over to his locker room. "You know Aiden, some times I just wish I could quite Blitzball and move away-far away and never return!"

Aiden sighed, studying Squall thoroughly. "Maybe, eventually, you might get your chance. But you need to ask yourself if that's what you would really want."

Squall laughed. "If it gets me away from the image of my old man, yes. That's what I would want."

"Hmmm." Aiden paused. "It's been ten years since he disappeared."

Squall turned and faced Aiden. "Yeah, so."

Aiden stepped forward again. "I thought you would be crying."

"Who?" Squall queried. "Me?"

"You cried." A voice echoed behind Aiden. Squall looked behind him and standing erect on a locker bench was a hooded and cloaked child. Its smooth face and blue eyes expressed that the young child was a girl. Squall had never seen her before until...

Squall opened his eyes. He had seen the hooded child before the Tournament when Aiden came to see him. What did she want? Why was she there? Did she somehow create the attack on Zanarkand? How would that even be possible? The third occurrence of the girl struck his heart. _It begins._ _What begins_? Aiden had said something similar just before being engulfed in Sins portal. _I need to find the girl! _

Squall rose up suddenly chilled. He looked at his fire. Only a shimmer of ashes burned now.

"Hey, Wait!" He jolted up and held out his hands, pleading to the fire. "Don't go out on me!" he looked over his shoulder and around. "Just hold on. I'll get more wood."

Squall stood erect and turned.

Red eyes glared back.

It had four, spiked, clawed legs with stringy black hair all down its spine. It's neck was extended from its torso for better maneuvering and had deathly sharp mandibles, dripping with ooze. Squall glared back at the new foe with confidence, he had been quite used to creatures dropping out of nowhere. The only trouble this time was there was no where to escape to-he would have to face this one by himself.

Squall slowly lowered himself to the floor, his fingertips grabbing his sword-his eyes directly on the creature who stood suspended at the edge of a balcony overlooking the marble floor.

Squall stood back one step.

The Klikk leaped and landed in front, almost knocking Squall into stone debris. Squall side stepped, moving around the monster with caution. It grunted, watching Squall motion him back with his sword. The Klikk cared not for weapons. He had a way to take care of them.

Squall slashed forward but missed, for it leaped and landed behind, already slashing Squall from behind.

"AHHH!" Squall screamed in agony. He fell forward, a enormous gash running down the side of his back. He turned over, blood mixing with the wet marble floor. He looked up at the creature as it walked up to him. He gripped his sword tightly, bringing it up.

The Klikk opened its wide jaw, twisted his black tongue and a whisp of concentrated saliva burst and sent the sword to a column. Its bulky-teared eyes turned to Squall laying below him. It rose its claw and extended to Squalls chest.

Missed.

Squall rolled out just in time, sprinting to his blade stuck to the column like glue. He pulled with all his effort but it wouldn't budge.

The Klikk calmly turned to Squall across the way. It slowly waddled to him, its tongue constantly licking the saliva from its mouth. Squall looked around and noticed another door, closed and obscured with stone fragments. Squall figured, even if closed, he might be able to open it. Squall sprinted forward to crash face first onto the marble. He rolled over and looked down. A white goo locked his feet together. Squall reached down to it and tried to pull the near-plastic like material from his shoes, but no effort availed.

The creature slowly and calmly walked up to Squall ready to claim his new meal.

"No! No!" Squall burst, struggling away, dragging his heavy feet behind him. The Klikk cocked its head to the side. It was tired of this game.

It sent its sword-like-claw right through Squalls leg.

Squall burst into a cry, gripping his leg, tears streaming down his face. Blood and ripped flesh covered his innocent hands. He looked up at the Klikk horridly. It used its claws to turn Squall over on his stomach. Squall could see his own blood streaming in front of his own eyes on the floor.

Light-headedness antagonized Squall. His eyes slowly glazed over. Who knew what the creature would do to him next. Squall, whatever it was, just wished it would be quick.

The Klikk stared down at its injured prey. It licked its plaque-covered teeth and locked its jaw for a scrumptious bite. But something caught his sensitive ears. It popped his head up and around. Its eyes slowly rested on a stone door.

BOOM!

A massive eruption rocketed the door into mere stone rocks. Squall felt the debris fall onto his body and looked forward. Standing in the threshold was six men. They all bore armor and rifles of intricate design. Even their uniforms, devised of rough leather and scraps of weathered metal, was something which Squall had never seen before. He was just happy they were here.

The Klikk growled. It urinated beside Squall and regarded the new foes in front of him. Leading the six men was a petite, young woman completely covered in straps. Belts holding grenades and holsters for the several pistols dangled beside her waist. She stepped forward and motioned to the Klikk; her face completely covered with a strange helmet and goggles.

The creature burst forward, its torso waddling out of sync of its long neck. The girl swiftly reached to her pouch and pulled out a grenade. Her teeth gripped the pin and pulled it loose. With a quick toss, the grenade arced and detonated. Huge nail-shrapnel flew out and punctured the skull and torso of the creature.

It slowly fell to its knees, legs giving way until it finally expired.

The girl rushed over to Squall still lying on the floor bleeding teemingly. The other men approached and grabbed Squall up by the hair while another cut his feet loose from the ooze.

"Hey..." Squall could barely speak. "Let me go..."

"Fryd ec drec?" A man spoke to the girl.

The girl looked up and down Squall.

"Y fiend! Eh risyh teckieca!" Another man burst.

One man pulled a small jagged knife exotically shaped to Squalls neck. "Fa gemm ed?"

The girl stepped forward shaking her head. "Fyed? Fryd ev ed ec risyh?"

The man laughed, pushing the blade closer to Squalls neck. "Drao yna dra cysa eh taydr!"

The girl shook her head, grabbing the mans arm and pulling the blade away from Squalls neck. "E vunpet ed! Fa pnehk ed fedr ic!"

The men rolled his eyes as if they had been stolen from some good sport. She looked at the nearly unconscious Squall. She stepped close to him, bringing her mouth right up to his ear.

"Cunno" she whispered.

Abruptly, her fist slammed into Squalls gut, causing him to crash onto the marble floor. His last images were of the Al Bhed dragging his body across the marble.


	3. THE AL BHED

III

THE AL BHED

A twilight, filled with long dominating streaks of fiery reds and oranges, consumed the heavens. It was almost like two sky's; one a source, the other a mere reflection from the surface of the ocean. Nothing obscured this beauty save one. A darkened vessel glided across the horizon . It wasn't large, for it carried no sails-but it was gray and shaded with linguistic symbols painted on its hull. If ever one person would spot a vessel like this, it would be a rarity. There is only a few that scour the ocean and most avoid public complications. They are known as scavengers, savages, treasure-hunters, and the Al Bhed.

Two men, wielding surgical instruments, stood over Squalls limp body. His vitals blinked on an old abused respiratory machine. Darkness waded in the shadows of the room, and standing in the infirmary entrance was the young girl. However, she no longer wore the concealing belts and rusted armor-she was a beautiful, petite young woman with sparkling greens eyes and light, sandy blonde hair. She watched one of the men next to Squall-who was tall, equipped with rough muscles, and encased with interweaving tattoos- stand over Squall's nearly dangling limb. He held tweezer like prongs gripping a sharp stitch edge and lowered it to Squalls wounded leg-the same leg the Klikk extended its claw straight though-and slowly penetrated the skin, pulling the two ends of the torn flesh together.

The young woman turned away as blood oozed over the operating table. Another male stepped up to her side. He was average height with a bald head and an aged face. Deep sorrow weighed in his eyes as he stared at Squall.

"Rikku, why did you allow this man on board?" He asked firmly. "You know the laws-if he ever tells anyone about-"

"Father please," She pleaded. "He's not a fiend. If I had let them kill him at the ruins...we could have killed someone in need. Besides, Father, aren't we trying to prove to-"

Her father turned and regarded her briefly. "I hope you know what you are doing."

Rikku watched her father leave. She turned back to Squall and smiled.

She knew what she was doing.

Squall slept. However-not on a warm comfortable bed. No-the more he dwelled on the back cramps eating at his nerves, the more he dissolved away from unconsciousness and realized, he lied on something very hard. Opening his eyes, he could see metal floor all around. His eyes searched around, memories of men dragging his body across the ruins stroke his heart. _Where am I?_

Squall stood but fell to his knees. He looked down at his leg which vibrated with pain. He lifted his pants leg up to reveal a stitch line which ran down most of his thigh. He touched it-his fingers trembling-remembering that last moment when he thought that his life was about to end.

He looked around. He was on a vessel of some sort in the middle of nowhere. He limped over to the deck railing and stared out at the starry void filling the sky. He took a deep breath. _What was next...? _Hydraulic pressure emitted from behind Squall and a door rose revealing three men and Rikku who again wore her draping belts of grenades and pistols. They approached him swiftly. One who was encased in tattoos shoved Squall back, knocking him to the deck floor.

"Ced, lybdeja!" He burst in Al Bhed.

Squall rubbed his shoulder. "Hey, that hurts." He tried to get up but another Al Bhed rose a rifle to Squalls chest.

"Hu sujehk, rayn!" He screamed.

"Whoa, okay." Squall figured that they felt threatened by him in some strange way. He just stood still, his eyes trailing over to Rikku who watched from afar.

The tattooed Al Bhed rose his hand, "Caynlr res!"

Two men grabbed Squall by the hair, holding him still while another man patted his cloths down-obviously searching for any weapons.

Then the Al Bhed-who to was covered in ink-stepped forward, holding a pare of goggles. He began with some grunt noises and motioning of the hands which resembled swimming-consistently pointing back to the goggles.

"Right. Whatever."

The leader pointed back to the goggles slightly miffed. "Tu oui hud cbayg?"

Squall just shook his head, frustration built in his tone. "I said I don't understand!"

"Echcumahla!"

A rifle was shoved into Squall chest, knocking him back. Rikku ran up to him, helping him up and eyeing the lead. They stepped forward, rifles all drawn. "Fa gemm ed!"

Rikku moved between them shaking her head. "Fyed!"

She turned to Squall and smiled. "He said you can stay if you make yourself useful."

_What!_ Squall couldn't believe it. "You...you understand me?"

The lead Al Bhed lowered his head in disgust. Rikku eyed him for a moment and turned back to Squall. "Just wait here okay, im going to get you some food and water."

Squall nodded speechless. She turned with the other Al Bhed and disappeared within the ship.

Squall guessed it was late. He never knew it would take so long to get something to eat. He lied on the deck staring out at the ocean passing by. Everything looked so foreign to him-not even the ocean looked like how he remembered it at Zanarkand. He wondered how far Sin had taken him from Zanarkand? He guessed that it was completely destroyed-but something inside of him told him he wanted to go back. Maybe to make sure it was all real.

"Hungry," Squall moaned.

He briefly closed his eyes, his head leaning on his elbow for support. He yawned.

Squall yelped as his arm was kicked out from under him. It was Rikku. She handed him a plate of food gently.

"Whoa, right on!" Roughly, he snatched the plate, crossed his legs and used his hands to scarf the food into his mouth.

Within seconds, he started to moaned and hiccup. He pounded fist against his chest needing something to drink. Squall looked right and left for something and snatched Rikku's cantina

"Hey!"

He flipped open the flask and took a long gulp. He sighed relieved. He got up and stretched smiling. He finally felt better-especially after everything that he had gone through. She smiled at him while he looked out at the ocean. Squall turned back to her.

"Hello-what's your name." He tried to say neutrally.

She tilted her head to the side and sighed. "Rikku."

Squall burst forward, grabbing her hands and shaking them wildly. "Whoa! You really do understand me!"

He hoped that he didn't seem too crazy in his reaction-but he was just happy to find someone who wasn't trying to kill him. He smiled and turned away again stretching-but his smiled faded. He turned back to Rikku with another question that struck his brain.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Rikku rose her hands pleadingly. "I didn't get the chance to! Everyone though oui were a fiend."

Squall looked at her puzzled. "Uh, 'oui'?"

She laughed realizing the accidently spoke Al Bhed. "Oh, 'oui' means 'you'."

Squall stared at her- a thousands questions now plaguing his mind. All of them were centered around these people-but only one seemed most important.

"Who are you guys, anyways?" Maybe it could answer the other question-_where did Sin take me?_

She smiled and stepped forward. "We're Al Bhed. Can't you tell?" Then she remembered her fathers concerns. "Wait. You're not an Al Bhed-hater, are you?"

_Al Bhed?_ Squall had never heard of such a group of people let alone a _Al Bhed hater_. "I don't even know what a Al Bhed is."

She looked at him quizzically; her eyes squinting to catch any bit of dishonesty. "Where are you from?"

This was a question Squall could answer. In fact, he suddenly felt a burst of excitement to talk about it. _Maybe she can get me home. _

"Zanarkand!" He burst. "Im a Blitzball Player." He pretended to grab a ball and kick it. "Star player of the Zanarkand Abes!"

She looked even more baffled. "Um...did you hit your head or something?"

He stepped forward completely clueless to her innuendo. "You guys hit me, remember?"

She hesitated and turned to the ocean and whispered. "Right, so you remember anything before that?"

Squall stared at her confused. "Um, ya..."

He told her everything. About his life at Zanarkand, his father Jecht and Blitzball. He told her about his struggle to beat his fathers reputation and then Sin's attack...and about he and Aiden were engulfed in Sin's light. He said things as they came to mind. Based upon Rikku's bewildered expression, however, he didn't understand what was so unclear.

But then he started to wonder.

"Did I say something funny?"

She stared at the calm ocean breaking against the hull. "You were near Sin."

Squall nodded, eyeing the blue shades streaked throughout the nights sky. "Yeah, I know."

She was quiet-too quiet for Squall. He figured that something was wrong. Possibly he had said something that upset her-or maybe she knew something she wasn't telling.

"Don't worry." She broke the silence. "You'll be better in no time. They said your head gets funny when Sin is near. Maybe you just had some kind of...dream."

Squall didn't understand what she was referring to. "You mean I'm sick?"

She nodded. "Because of Sin's toxin, yeah."

He didn't feel sick-except the excruciating pain coming from his leg and ankle. "You sure?"

Rikku nodded again. "Yeah, there is no Zanarkand anymore. Sin destroyed it a thousand years ago." She spoke matter-of-factly. "So...no one plays Blitzball there."

It took Squall several seconds to process what Rikku had disclosed. _A thousand years ago...Sin's toxin...no more Zanarkand...?_ "What do you mean, a thousand years ago!"

Rikku stared at his expression of frustration and muted confusion.

"But I saw Sin attack Zanarkand! You're saying that happened a thousand years ago?"

She carried a blank face. She didn't know what to say but to look at the ground. "A long time ago, there were a whole lot of cities in Anuthna. The cities had machines to run them. People played all day and let the machines do all the work. And then Sin came, and destroyed the cities and Zanarkand too."

Squall turned away from her. She was lying. How could Sin transport him a thousand years into the future-there was just-no way; it was impossible.

"How...I mean why?"

Rikku shrugged. "Don't know. It happened such a long time ago that people don't even know where Sin came from. Its just a good thing your still alive."

"Why is that?" For he felt that he'd rather be dead.

"Because Sin usually kills anyone who he comes into contact with."

Squall stared at the ocean again. Rikku stared at him for a moment and then turned away debating her own thoughts. "You said...you play Blitzball?"

Squall nodded, rolling his eyes. _Not that it matters now._

She smiled, sensing his lack of interest. "You know, you should go to Luca with us. Someone might know who you are, or you might find someone you recognize."

_How could I recognize anyone if I was sent through time a thousand years?_ But Rikku didn't believe that he was enveloped in Sin's portal-she merely thought he had been influenced by Sin's toxin-that the attack on Zanarkand was just a hallucination. _Maybe she is right..._Squall pondered. _Maybe my whole life as just some dream._

"How far is it?" Squall questioned.

She smiled. "Pretty far, but im sure I'll be able to convince the boys to go. They have been wanting to see the Bi-Skill Tournament taking place there."

Squall was unsure.

"Would you rather stay here?"

Squall really didn't know. But she had a point. How was he going to discover why Sin's toxins made him believe that he lived in Zanarkand. Or, if Rikku was wrong, why he was sent through time a thousand years.

"No..." he muttered.

Rikku nodded. "Okay, leave it to me. I'll get you to Luca, promise!" She turned toward the hatch then stopped. "Oh and one thing. Don't tell anyone you're from Zanarkand, okay. Yevon say's it's a holy place. You might upset someone."

He watched her leave.

The morning breeze tugged at Squalls rugged hair. He stared out at the ocean-how it flowed to random length until it curved toward the horizon. Purples and blues reflected from the small, shallow waves which caressed the entire surface. He studied solidly, pushing all inner emotions deeper into a locking chasm. Even after two months of being with the Al Bhed, he refused to believe that he was affected by Sin's toxin. Instead, he believe what others would relatively say was impossible: Sin somehow transported from Zanarkand to a thousand years into the future. And here he was, with each passing moment, coming closer to the city named Luca-a city which had never existed when Squall lived in Zanarkand. But Zanarkand, some kind of holy place? Yevon? Sin? Luca? Squall thought Sin took him to afaraway place, that he could go back in a day or two. But a thousand years into the future? How could it be even be possible.

How could he, in present time, have been affected by Sin's toxin if he existed a thousand years ago. And why did Rikku suddenly rush in with an idea to send him to this city Luca? What was in Luca that Rikku believed would help him?

It was time to get some answers.

Squall turned from the bow of the ship and headed toward the deck hatch.

The interior was shabby and moist; filled a smell of evaporated algae. Squall walked casually down the small enclosed corridor. He stopped at a small hatch, turned a iron wheel and stepped inside. It was completely dark. Squall reached into his pocket and pulled out a match and lit it . _Sure is dark...where is everyone? _Squall muttered to himself approaching a table in the middle of the room. He lowered the match to a lantern covered in rust probably salvaged along with most of the other _junk_ (as Squall calls it) they have saved.

The lantern caused the shadows to flee, revealing a room filled with a wallpaper of old fishing nets, broken parts to old machines and restored newspaper articles revealing current events from a long history already passed. He looked ahead, through a hallway threshold and into another room was steel bunk beds and unfurnished chairs. Two men, one on a bunk bed and the other hanging off the side of the chair, slept quietly. Squall smiled.

He knew these two men. He had gotten to know them during his stay on the ship. Marcus and Blank were their names-losers by Squalls standards. He was still fresh learning the new language they all spoke, but that's why it was nice to have Rikku around. She taught him the dialogue, how to pronounce the syllables, and even how to roughly translate their unique writing. He didn't understand why she was so willing to help him, especially since they were a exiled group of people. Any knowledge of their whereabouts would bring, as Rikku claimed, "Very big men with large guns." after them.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Baku entered. He walked over and flipped on a light and regarded the two sleeping Al Bhed.

"Wake up!" he boasted in Al Bhed.

Marcus and Blank jolted from comatose. They looked around, yawned, stretched, and stood. Baku, the lead Al Bhed who not only was covered in tattoos, but also the one who stitched Squalls wounded leg, motioned his hand as he entered the hall.

"Come on, we're meeting in the conference room!" Baku shouted down the corridor.

Squall had recently learned that Baku was Rikku's brother. He was just glad that Rikku didn't have his attitude...or his looks.

Squall and several Al Bhed waited around a table filled with maps and models of a city of some sort. He didn't know what was transpiring but he knew who they were waiting for. The hatch door creaked open and Rikku stepped inside. Her blue eyes went around the room and fell upon Squall, causing her to smile briefly. She turned to the front of the table and regarded the men around her who included Baku, Blank, Marcus and Squall. She placed her hands together and sat down at the small chair.

"Okay guys, as you all know we are on our way to Luca."

_So that's what the city is on the map, _Squall thought.

Marcus yawned again and waved his hand in the air. "And why are we going again?"

Squall's eyes locked with Rikku's. _She hadn't told them why yet?_

Rikku turned to Marcus and smiled. "Because my father has given us a mission."

Blank rolled his eyes. "Again." he whined "If were doing some underwater bull-crap again, he can kiss my ass."

Rikku ignored his negativity and turned back to the whole group. "Luca is holding there famous Bi-Skill Tournament this year at the Blitzball Stadium. Maester Seymour is going to be their to represent the new recruits and honor his fathers fiftieth year in office."

_Maester...what's that?_ Squall figured questions were better asked for later.

"Yeah so." Marcus rolled his eyes.

"Here's the plan! During the tournament, we go and release all the fiends from the courtyard so they'll attack the audiences. Then we'll come and destroy the fiends and for the service we'll ask the Maester for a pardon from the exile."

"What!" Blank burst. "Are you insane. We'll be sentenced to death for such a crime. Do you really think the Maester is going to be worried about fiends. I have heard stories about a Maester's power. Besides, he is surrounded by Magi."

Baku stood firmly. "Im tired of the pathetic nonsense oozing from your ugly face!" His palm wrapped around Blanks throat and tightened.

"Stop!" Rikku ordered. Baku loosened his grip. Blank coughed grabbing his neck while Baku remained standing.

"C'mon guys." She pleaded. "We have been searching for a way to end this constant debate with the Ihedat Nations for years. We have never have been this close to actually negotiating with an actual leader of the country."

"Why would you want to do it with Maester Seymour?" Marcus carefully asked. "Isn't he only the Emperor's son. How and why would he help us."

Rikku grinned. "Seymour is Emperor Jeckyl's son and only heir to Office. If Seymour feels like it should be done, im sure he can convince the Emperor to go along with him."

Blank coughed. "I don't know Rikku, sounds kinda like...suicide to me."

Baku glared down at him.

"We haven't gotten this far without taking risks." Rikku responded.

"What about the audience?" Squall finally butted in. "Your willing to sacrifice peoples lives in order to convince this Seymour guy?"

Rikku stared at Squall's disturbed expression.

"I thought the Al Bhed were peaceful people, who only care about restoring the old in order to fix the new? But those fiends, once you release them, are going to kill anyone in their sight."

"Squall, you don't understand." Rikku tried to say.

Squall shook his head. "No you don't understand." He stood and shook his head. "When Zanarkand was attacked, I watched my friends, my family torn apart in front of me. I seen people die and suffer when somehow I lived."

Everyone rolled their eyes.

Squall laughed. "You don't have to believe me. But this plan...is going to kill people in the process. And your willing to take that chance?"

Rikku gazed into Squalls eyes. "Yes, we are."

Squall puffed air and nodded. "Okay, I get it. In order to create life you have to take it. Well, I wont be part of this."

Squall stormed out of the room, slamming the iron hatch behind him. Rikku turned back to the others and sighed.

Squall stood at the bow, a fire burning deep in his heart. He couldn't believe it. The only reason Rikku was going to take Squall to Luca was because of some stupid plan. She didn't care about him at all. She was only interested in herself and her people. How could he have been so blind? And for the first time since the Blitzball Tournament, Squall was reminded of his father. Jecht always had another agenda when committing to something which to the mind eye was courteous.

He slammed his fist onto the railing.

"Damn you!" he burst.

Steam rolled from the hydraulics as the interior hatch opened and Rikku stepped out. Squall didn't even turn around to regard her. She stepped forward hesitantly.

"Squall...I just..." She tried to say.

He stared out at the neutral sky.

She walked up beside him and sighed. "I just want our people to be recognized. I just want peace."

Squall huffed and shook his head. "Peace...peace. Your going to kill people in order to get peace?" He turned and looked at Rikku's saddened eyes. "Back at Zanarkand, people didn't kill other people."

Rikku was confused. "Are you saying you have never been in a war before?"

Squall shook his head. "Not against other people. Back then, there was peace. The only danger was when fiends would attack-which was rare."

Rikku stared at him. She was battling with her emotions. Squall sounded so genuine in his stories about Zanarkand-as if he had once lived there. But it was not possible, how could he have been transported to the present. But Squalls present wasn't this time period, it was Zanarkands; the only time he ever knew. Maybe that was why Squall felt so out of place-so disjointed from reality. There was so many differences between Zanarkand and this new world.

Rikku agreed that Squall couldn't be apart of her plan or mission. He had sustained too much trauma in the last couple days to gain composure. Therefore, with a sigh, she broke the silence.

"What would you like me to do?"

Squall looked at her skeptically. "I will go to Luca, but not to be part of your scheme, but to see if anyone can help me."

Rikku nodded and slowly turned. "Then, tomorrow, we will arrive at Luca and we'll part."

She moved back to the hatch and it hummed open. She looked back at him who continued to star out at the rolling ocean. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The evening sky drained into a starry oblivion.


End file.
